


He Shall, From Time To Time

by serratic (nonillegitimicarborundum)



Category: Suits - Fandom, teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Crack Pairing, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 09:26:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonillegitimicarborundum/pseuds/serratic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The short version that Harvey tells everyone else is this: mistakes were made and a good time was had by all. It would hardly be the first time that someone had accused him of being emotionally unavailable but it's definitely the last time he'll tell them they're wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Shall, From Time To Time

**Author's Note:**

> It's a work in progress. The title is a "West Wing" quote. It's cracky.

There’s nothing about Danny Mahealani that should be attractive to Harvey Specter of all people. First and foremost, he’s a he, which concerns Harvey a lot more than he thinks it should but his burgeoning sexuality also tells him that it’s unlikely-and by unlikely, he means not fucking likely at all-that Laura Hale is the only person in Beacon Hills that’s going to catch his eye.  
  
Of course, if there had to be someone to catch his eye, Laura Hale was a good place to start.  
  
Secondly, Danny’s still in highschool when Harvey’s starting college. He’s sixteen turning seventeen the year that Harvey moves to New York and they stay friends because Danny’s been there (kind of) for Stiles (in some way) over the years. There’s that first Thanksgiving home and Harvey’s a little rougher around the edges from a lack of sleep and sheer mental exhaustion. He shares a beer with Danny on the roof while the others are tearassing around the backyard and setting things on fire.  
  
“Tradition’s a weird thing,” Danny says, face impassive in the low light. Harvey doesn’t say anything in response, just takes the bottle back when it’s offered and finishes the last sip.  
  
Tradition is, as tradition does, a weird thing indeed.  
  
Spring Break takes Harvey home with his roommate Tal to Upstate New York. It’s still pretty chilly and the trees are a verdant kind of green that reads like a Thomas Kinkade painting. He takes a picture of the pond in the Fisch's backyard and sends it to Stiles and then to Danny as almost an afterthought. In response he gets a picture of a pool and a pair of legs crossed at the ankle, burnt tan, and Harvey thinks that okay, maybe the whole dude thing isn’t such a problem after all.  
  
That summer is spent on the lacrosse field with Harvey screaming at the top of his lungs over scrimmages. Stiles eventually tells him to calm the hell down because it’s kind of embarrassing and Harvey figures that if _Stiles_ is embarrassed, then everybody else must be mortified. He sees Danny again when they’re packing up to head out and holds his gaze a second longer than is probably necessary before climbing into the passenger’s seat of the Jeep and falling back into conversation with his brother.  
  
There’s some kind of summer party at Jackson’s house that turns into a huge fucking thing and Harvey isn’t entirely sure why he’s there other than to say that Laura dragged him along. He doesn’t know why Laura’s there either, but questions are lost to overly loud music and Harvey can’t be bothered after his second drink. He watches Stiles stumbling around with Scott and shares a knowing look with Lydia that turns into an eye roll before turning to slip back through the house and start for home.  
  
He reacts on an instinctual level when someone grabs him by the front of the shirt to haul into a dark hallway and curls up on a full body tense before going stock still at a rough touch of mouth. He doesn’t taste alcohol and is completely disoriented for a minute before moving his hands to press against the other person’s chest, knowing between breaths who it is.  
  
“Why?” Danny asks simply. He hasn’t moved back or forward and his mouth is soft against the corner of Harvey’s as he shifts slightly.  
  
Harvey turns the question over and over and over before lifting a shoulder and tilting his chin to catch Danny’s mouth gently. “Because I wanted to.”  
  
It spirals out of control after that and Harvey can’t even pretend like it doesn’t. There’s no buffer between a simple kiss in the hallway at a party neither one of them meant to be at and a full blown relationship that is quiet quiet quiet. They’re physical at a base level that turns from aggressive petting to blowjobs while everyone else is sleeping and, if not for the _fucking_ dog getting out and waking the whole goddamned town up, they would have slept together before Harvey goes back to school in August.  
  
There’s an unspoken actuality about being together that neither one of them wants to acknowledge, so they don’t. Danny tells Harvey time and time again that if he wants to find someone else, that-  
  
The sentiment never gets any further than the breath before Harvey’s cutting him off and launching into a dismissal. There is no one else. Not really.  
  
Thanksgiving rolls around again and Stiles goes with Mom and John to Montana to visit Mom’s parents, leaving Harvey home to take care of Darwin and the house for a few days. Danny’s over more than he isn’t and they finally sleep together. It’s a tangle of limbs and more pain than pleasure but it’s the last little bit of something that’s theirs and Harvey falls asleep that night with a heavy arm slung over Danny’s chest and a lazy half smile on his face.  
  
“Ipo,” Danny says in that almost-asleep tone of voice that makes the hairs on the back of Harvey’s neck stand up, “means lover in Hawaiian.”  
  
Harvey says nothing in response, just remembers the word and tucks his mouth against Danny’s shoulder. He sleeps that night, boneless and sated, and doesn’t wake up until Stiles strangles a surprised sound when he stumbles in the next morning and hurries back out.  
  
Getting busted isn’t as bad as Harvey thinks it’s going to be. John just sends Danny home and tells him that he probably shouldn’t mention it to his parents before sending Stiles out too and smacking Harvey across the back of his head.  
  
“Rude,” Harvey mutters as he rubs at his neck and hitches his pajama bottoms up around his hips before grabbing the cup of coffee that John set down on the counter for him. “I know what you’re going to say.”  
  
“What am I going to say?”  
  
“That he’s too young for me.”  
  
“See, you did earn that scholarship on academic merit alone.”  
  
Harvey snorts and takes a sip before gesturing at the sheriff with his mug. “Mom’s younger than you.”  
  
“Mom’s not in high school.”  
  
“Okay, when you say it like that it sounds creepy.”  
  
John rolls his eyes and takes a bite of his bagel. “It is creepy. Also? Illegal, but it’s none of my business.”  
  
“You’re the sheriff. You’re telling me that breaking the law isn’t your business?”  
  
“Don’t push it.”  
  
And so he doesn’t.  
  
Christmas comes and goes without another incident, unless you count having to explain to Stiles what happened. Harvey goes back to school and by the time their official unofficial one year anniversary rolls around, it doesn’t even strike him as something that unusual anymore.  
  
There’s a handprint on the wall where Harvey’s tried to grab at the plaster and he can feel the press of Danny’s breathing when they fall to pieces, sheets crumpled at the foot of the bed and skin sweat slicked. Harvey huffs a breathless laugh and tucks his mouth against Danny’s shoulder like always but this time there’s words staining the touch and it’s Danny that doesn’t say anything in return.  
  
“Ipo,” he says again later, "means lover in Hawaiian. Love doesn’t need saying.”  
  
Harvey doesn’t know what to make of that, so he just nods.  
  
But if Harvey Specter is anything, he’s thorough. He likes to know where all of his blind spots are and so the fact that he’s the only one saying it starts to bother him after a while. It’s a week before the end of summer vacation and they’re back up on the roof watching Stiles and Scott shoot off the rest of the roman candles from the Fourth of July. Harvey can see Isaac flinch with every crackle of lighter fluid but he doesn’t acknowledge it.  
  
“You’re going back on Monday.” Danny’s not asking a question and his voice has the same matter of fact tone he carries with Stiles when he’s five hundred percent done with his bullshit (which is all the time, if they’re being honest), "and then back here for Thanksgiving.”  
  
“I could come home sooner if you want.”  
  
“I wasn’t asking you that.”  
  
Harvey ducks his head and smiles a little, reaching to curl his fingers around Danny’s and squeeze lightly. “I know. But I could.”  
  
“It’s expensive, Harv. I’ll see you at Thanksgiving.”  
  
The backyard goes silent then and Harvey blows out a breath before squeezing again and letting go. “I love you.”  
  
“Don’t say that unless you mean it.”  
  
Harvey reels like he’s been slapped and that’s when he learns to keep his emotions off his face. He inhales slowly and tips his head back on his shoulders to watch the moon for a minute. “I mean it.” The sentiment hangs there unacknowledged before he says, “Do you?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Danny answers without missing a beat. He turns his head to look at Harvey and shrugs elegantly. “But I don’t want to say it in case.”  
  
Harvey nods once and closes his eyes as he knuckles at his chest; when his father has his heart attack a few years later, Harvey will recognize the affectation for what it is, but in that moment, he thinks it’s just a physiological response to disappointment. “Okay. That’s fine.”  
  
School starts back the Wednesday after that Monday and Harvey doesn’t think about it. He doesn’t think about the way he felt his whole world shift a little or how ridiculous he felt for being hurt. He doesn’t think about the sound of bed slats creaking or the way his sleep went darker when he wasn’t alone. They don’t talk as much but they still talk and sometimes Danny laughs at Harvey’s jokes and he doesn’t feel so much like it’s coming off the rails but he knows.  
  
Thanksgiving that year is a fucking disaster. There’s too many people in one house and Harvey can barely breathe for the crush of conversation. Stiles is running around in a near manic frenzy the entire time, face flushed and eyes bright, and Harvey eventually shoves two Adderall at him with a glass of water and tells him to calm down. He takes that time to call Danny and meets him on the not-so-creepy edge of town to go for a walk when the moon hauls up high over the treetops.  
  
“I was thinking that you might enjoy Manhattan over Christmas,” Harvey says. He keeps his hands in his pockets and walks close enough to bump shoulders. “I love y-”  
  
“I can’t.”  
  
Harvey stops walking, brows pulling together as he tries to parse it out. “I’m pretty sure a flight wouldn’t be that expensive.”  
  
Danny sighs and rubs his face with both hands, visibly searching for words before just shaking his head and wetting his lips. “I can’t do the other thing.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“I see.”  
  
“Harv.”  
  
Harvey wrinkles his nose and turns his head up to watch the sky. “That’s fine. I don’t mind, it’s fine.”  
  
“I mind.”  
  
“You mind.”  
  
“I do.”  
  
The sound Harvey makes is dry and hollow as he drops his chin and thins his mouth. “Are you breaking up with me?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Danny scuffs the toe of his sneaker against the asphalt and reaches to palm the back of Harvey’s neck, tucking their foreheads together and shifting a little closer. “It’s nothing you did.”  
  
“I know that.”  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Danny huffs a breath. “Are you mad?”  
  
“I’m fucking furious,” Harvey answers with a laugh. He pulls back and shakes his head, jaw working and eyes gone glossy. “Absolutely livid, but I’m pretty sure there’s nothing I can do about it so I’m just going to attempt to be gracious.”  
  
“I could try harder.”  
  
“Fuck you.”  
  
When he thinks about it later, Harvey wishes he hadn’t said that. He should have let Danny try in the ways he was going to try but instead he just walks away and doesn’t stop until he’s home again. He kicks the door shut behind him with his heel and hauls up the stairs two at the time to shoulder into his bedroom and sit on the edge of the bed. He reaches and presses a palm against the wall and is sure he can feel the handprint there before curling down onto his side and falling asleep fully dressed.  
  
It’s a Monday when he gets back to school and the first thing out of Tal’s mouth is a comment about how shitty Harvey looks. Harvey doesn’t argue with him and Tal doesn’t mention it again. He hears from Lydia that Danny’s got a new boyfriend, one that he can be seen with and doesn’t have to hide, and he doesn’t even try to be happy.  
  
“You’re mad,” Lydia says and Harvey’s suddenly not so sure she’s as smart as everyone else thinks she is.  
  
“I’m not mad.”  
  
“But you’re mad.”  
  
“Okay, I’m mad.”  
  
“I knew it.”  
  
He lets her think she’s got him in one and maybe she does. Maybe he is mad (mad doesn’t even come close) but it’s mostly just hurt. He feels the ache like a hook behind his ribs and the fact that he’s pining over a fucking seventeen year old asshole who broke his heart without care or concern makes him more than a little pissed with himself, but he’ll get over it.  
  
He always does.

* * *

 

There’s another life, Harvey thinks, where he does go home again for Spring Break because he can see it so clearly and it goes something like this.  
  
Beacon Hills is pretty much quiet when Harvey gets home on a Tuesday after midterms. The schools are still in session and his parents are at work, so he takes the first six hours to just sleep in his own bed, which is something he never thought he’d miss. Darwin is over excited and almost dislocates Harvey’s good shoulder jumping into bed with him but they find a comfortable arrangement and fall back into sleep just as John’s getting home.  
  
Harvey’s never needed Mr. Stilinski to be a dad for him because he has a dad but he respects the man and gets along pretty well with him (most of the time). They share a cup of coffee and John tells Harvey about what’s been going on since Christmas, that the Argents are pretty much the Crazygents at this point and that it makes him jumpy to see Laura Hale alone despite knowing that she’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself. He tells him that he’s about tired of Derek Hale coming and going as he pleases-”Kid’s not right, Harry, but I guess you can’t blame him,” he says-and tells him about how Anna’s new schedule has her working nights with Melissa McCall.  
  
But then John levels with Harvey and tells him that there’s some freaky hijiki voodoo shit going on and he thinks Lydia Martin has completely lost her fucking mind. He tells Harvey, for no reason other than John trusts him too, that he doesn’t think Derek Hale had anything to do with Peter’s death but damned if he can prove it.  
  
“Derek Hale didn’t kill his uncle,” Harvey mutters.  
  
“Yeah, that’s because his uncle isn’t dead.” Harvey must make a face because John snorts a laugh and nods. “Told you.”  
  
Of course, it would hardly be the first time that someone had come back from the dead. Harvey’s secretly still waiting for Victoria to kick her way into a PTA meeting, though from what his mother’s told him, a butcher knife to the heart is a pretty permanent thing. When Laura died, they’d accepted it as fact. There had been a funeral and bereavement and Harvey had quite literally (okay, not _literally_ ) shit himself when she’d sent him a text about six months later.  
  
But Peter Hale not being dead is a whole different level of _fucking fuck shit fuck_ and Harvey knows it. He turns his coffee mug with an easy finger and drums his heel against the floor before just nodding in response and wetting his lips. “Okay,” he says simply. “So that kind of blows.”  
  
“It kind of majorly blows, yes,” John replies. There’s an airiness to his voice that indicates to Harvey that, okay, it _really majorly_ blows, but he doesn’t have a chance to say anything else before Stiles comes crashing through the foyer and tackles Harvey to the ground.  
  
That first night home is all kinds of hectic. Anna gives up her shift at the hospital and Scott and his mom come around for dinner. Harvey makes it three steps out the front door to get some fresh air and gets taken out by a one hundred and ten pounds of ornery best friend when Laura throws herself at him.  
  
“Do people not remember how to greet without the assistance of gravity?” he asks with a groan when they hit the grass.  
  
“I was going to jump off the roof-”  
  
“Of course you were.”  
  
“-so consider yourself lucky,” she replies with that impossibly bright grin before smacking his cheeks and kissing him soundly. “Hi, Harry.”  
  
They start walking after Harvey convinces Stiles that no, he can’t come and yes, it’s because they’re going to make out. Everyone and their mom knows that’s bullshit but Stiles isn’t a fool.  
  
It’s quiet and dark in that still-light-and-loud kind of way that too many people crammed in too small a space allows. Harvey listens to Laura talk and watches her in profile; he likes the way her nose turns up at the tip and how the smile never leaves her eyes even when she’s trying for somber. He remembers those months he lived without her and catches her hand on impulse to keep close.  
  
“It’s just asking for a suspension of disbelief,” she sighs and Harvey realizes he doesn’t know what she’s talking about because he’s been watching the moon but he huffs a breath and shakes his head anyway.  
  
“Laura, getting out of bed in the morning here requires a suspension of disbelief. It’s not really expecting a lot of me anymore to just go with the flow.”  
  
“Are you going to see Danny while you’re home?”  
  
Okay, so that didn’t take very long. Harvey frowns darkly and slants her a look that would be unreadable to anyone else. “No.”  
  
“Bullshit.”  
  
“Why do I even bother answering in the negative anymore?”  
  
“I like to think it’s some Puritan holdout to guilt but probably because you don’t want to seem desperate.”  
  
Harvey feigns indignation and slows to a stop to mug at her. “I’m not desperate.”  
  
“Sure you are.”  
  
“Okay, well-”  
  
“You shouldn’t see him, Harry. It’s just going to turn into a thing-" Her tone says she’s admonishing him but the look on her face is more of a concerned warning, "-and the last thing you need is another thing.”  
  
Harvey closes his mouth and works his jaw, head turned up and eyes tracking over the tops of the trees. “I know that.”  
  
“I know you know that.”  
  
“Then why’d you say it?”  
  
“Because I don’t think you know that.”  
  
“So you were lying just then.”  
  
“Only a little.”  
  
Though he would deny it later, Harvey grins and wrinkles his nose. “I’m not going to see him, Lolly.”  
  
“Of course you are.”  
  
“Of course I am.”  
  
“So you were lying just then.”  
  
“Only a little.”  
  
Harvey takes Laura home because it makes him feel better to know he at least walked her there before he pulls his phone out and sends Danny a text to come over in the morning after everybody’s gone to work and Stiles is at school. The only thing he gets in response is a simple “okay” but he doesn’t argue with it.  
  
He doesn’t hold his breath either.  
  
There’s not much in the way of sleep for Harvey that night and when Stiles stumbles out of the house for school in the morning, closely followed by Anna and the sheriff, Harvey lets himself take the longest shower he’s ever taken and doesn’t do much in the way of actually bathing until the water has run cold and his skin is pruning. He’s drying his hair when there’s a knock the front door and he takes the stairs two at the time to pull the door open and blink at Danny.  
  
“Hey.”  
  
Harvey doesn’t say anything in response. He’s dressed in his pajamas again, simple grey pants and a long sleeved blue henley, and rubbing at his hair with a towel and just says nothing. He watches Danny quietly and takes a step to the side to let him in before closing the door again and starting up the stairs for his room.  
  
Danny stays where he’s standing, backpack on his shoulder and face calm even as he watches Harvey up the stairs. “What did you-”  
  
“Come on.”  
  
The way the third stair up from the landing creaks tells Harvey that Danny’s following him, which is good because he didn’t actually know he was going to do if he didn’t, so he doesn’t stop walking until he’s back in his room and standing in front of the window to watch the sun as it rises fully. “What did you want?” Danny asks again.  
  
Harvey is a little startled by the tone of his voice. He’d anticipated contrite or maybe even angry but what he didn’t expect was soft and a little trepid. “Timorous is new for you,” he mutters, ignoring the slow crawling flush that starts at the back of his neck and melts over his collarbones. “I’d understand pugnacious but not timid.”  
  
“Why would I want to fight you, Harv? I broke your heart, not the other way around.”  
  
“You practice that one?”  
  
Danny ducks his head and curls his fingers around the strap of his bag, eyes on the toes of his sneakers. “Okay, so this is going to be that, then.”  
  
“It’s going to be what?”  
  
“You saying what you wanted to say when.”  
  
“When what?”  
  
“When I broke u-”  
  
“I knew what you meant, I just wanted to make sure you did,” Harvey says absently. He turns from the window and drops the towel over the footboard of his bed, crossing his arms over his chest and wetting his lips. “Are you sorry?”  
  
Danny coughs a laugh and rubs his face with a hand that Harvey notices is shaking and for a second, he feels badly. “Am I sorry?” Danny repeats. He sucks his teeth and nods once. “Yeah. I am.”  
  
Harvey holds calm and pulls his mouth to the side slightly to cover the way his chin goes tight before shrugging simply. “Okay.”  
  
“Did you just want me to say that out loud?” Danny asks. There’s a weird waxed kind of confusion that gets glossed over really quickly in favor of a look of hurt. “You didn’t want to see me.”  
  
“I didn’t say that,” Harvey answers and the way the words trip over each other says everything about what he really did want, even if he didn't mean for it to. “I didn’t say that, Danny.”  
  
“What did you say then?”  
  
“I love you.”  
  
Danny closes his eyes when his face burns hot, ears pink and cheeks warm to the touch. “Oh. Still? That’s... okay.”  
  
Harvey pushes his tongue against the back of his teeth when his mouth waters and shakes his head. “That’s not an answer.”  
  
“There wasn’t a question,” Danny replies, voice pitching up in irritation. “There was an implied question but if you’re going to railroad me, then you’d sure as fuck better actually _ask the goddamned question_.”  
  
“Ipo means lover in Hawaiian,” Harvey snaps back. He can’t keep it off his face anymore and lets his eyes go dark. “What the hell were you doing for two years if you weren’t loving me? Because I know that sometimes, lover can mean someone who just appreciates something like art or good cheese, so I need to know if I was a hobby for you. Something to enjoy when you wanted it.”  
  
“I was in over my head and I didn’t know how to tell you no!”  
  
Harvey blinks once and pulls back like Danny’s just punched him. He says nothing, doesn’t yell and doesn’t acknowledge the sick creeping guilt that settles heavy in his stomach at the idea that he’d been taking advantage, just breathes slowly and shallowly around the stabbing ache in his chest. “I see.”  
  
“Don’t do that.”  
  
“Don’t do what.”  
  
“Don’t act like I just slapped you when you’re the one that asked in the first place,” Danny answers. He’s flushed and his eyes are a little wild but he keeps his voice low and even. “Look, Harv. You’re incredible. You’re smart and you’re funny and you’re handsome, but you’re terrifying. Being in a relationship with you is _terrifying_ because in the vastness of the world, I’m pretty sure there’s a million people out there better suited for you than me and that’s not fair for me to have to deal with and it’s not fair for you to try and deal with either. It was fun. I had fun and I don’t regret it but it’s not forever.”  
  
“And you didn’t love me.”  
  
“Of course I love you,” Danny says quietly. He takes a step forward then and hesitates for a second before slinging his bag to the ground and reaching to curl his fingers into the front of Harvey’s shirt. He pulls and takes another step forward in the same motion to catch his mouth and pushes into the kiss with a soft sound before leaning back enough to speak against the swell of Harvey’s cheek. “But that doesn’t mean I get to keep you.”  
  
When Danny leaves two hours later, Harvey can barely move for how badly his body hurts. He can feel handprints on his ribs instead of seeing them on the wall and can taste blood under his tongue when he bit his cheek to stay quiet. He knows he won’t be able to sit for a week and doesn’t envy the fact that Danny has lacrosse practice that afternoon. He feels with every step, the creak of muscle and the aching tug, and showers again.  
  
There isn’t another time after that. There isn’t some huge revelation or secret kisses at dark parties. Stiles knows something’s up but he doesn’t say anything and Harvey doesn’t offer. When the week is over, he goes back to Manhattan and pretends to not think about it every ten minutes during the day. The bruises fade and the sound of heavy breathing that tilted into a laugh becomes a memory and Harvey Specter is just another junior who got his heart broken.  
  
But it doesn’t happen like that. Not this time. **  
**


End file.
